Faith
by juanet
Summary: Reviews are always nice. Brin Ohmsford wants to forget the past, so why don't we propel her into the future, throw an evil fiancee in for good luck, and make her fall in love with someone she can not be with? Sounds good to me.
1. It begins

_A/N: I did my best to keep this original. The story, plot, and doings of the characters are entirely my own, but the actual characters, side from one, the places, the time era, are entirely Terry Brooks. Research was done, reminiscing what I had read of his these two books, combining them into one but farther into the future, and when it was needed, reference was made. You will note that since my calculating of times, places, and things is accurate (those of you who read Brooks will definitely see this). So please, enjoy two worlds combining into one under the strangest of circumstances. Brin and Little Red are two of my favorite characters from his Shannara series, as you will be able to blatantly tell. Reviews are always welcome, good or bad._

She couldn't kiss him. She just, couldn't.

Brin Ohmsford closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh.

"What now?" Lian Ruus held Brin's hand tightly in his own. She had been so distant, so cold lately, he didn't know what to make of it, and he didn't like it. Their relationship, it had gone sour it seemed, messing everything up that he had planned so carefully. And there was no reason for it to be like it was.

His green elf eyes met her deep brown depths. He just wanted to understand. Pushing back a strand of her dark hair, he tried to get into her mind, reading it, feeling it, but she was blocked off. That much was obvious. He could feel the wall, and from the wince he had encountered while he was pushing her hair back from her face, he knew that she knew he was attempting it. And stopping him.

"Lian, no." Brin stood up, purple sash following her slender form as she walked to the nearest bay window.

"Brin. What is wrong? We haven't been the same since I don't know when, and it is not one bit fair that you keep me in the dark. You are my girlfriend, near fiancé, and I have a right to know what the hell is going on in your head."

Brin's fingers clenched the satin curtain, head bowing just slightly. "You wouldn't understand."

He huffed, hands planting on his hips. "And why wouldn't I?"

Her eyes flashed and she turned to him, lower lip protruding defiantly. "Because you're closed minded. And you have never listened to me before."

His eyebrows rose just slightly, smirk on his face. "Me, not listen to you?" he snickered, "Brin, _you_ are closed minded. I have listened to you numerous times, _darling_."

"Oh really?" she backfired, rage burning through her veins. She could swear she almost saw red. This whole time, for three years of her life, since she had been given up her journey to help save Shannara, since the Ellcrys had miraculously, with help of Allanon, and her wishsong, been restored, she had wasted her time with this… this heathen of an elf who had all along had no respect, not even a little, for her.

It made her sick. And she was only just realizing it.

"You…" she ground out, "Are a ruthless, despicable elf." her cheeks burned as she fought back tears she knew she could not let him see.

Boots clicking lightly against the hard wood floor, Lian paced carelessly, as if he were having a normal conversation with a pal. He crossed his arms behind his back, fingers twittering mindlessly with the back of his coat. He huffed angrily.

"You always drive me to such anger." he shouted, green eyes turning a deep purple. "You make me mad enough to want to…" he bit his tongue. "Forget it. I wouldn't bother wasting my time on a dreary little thing such as yourself. The only reason I ever took any sort of interest in your was because you're the famous Brin Ohmsford, healer of the Ellcrys. Do you know how many men wanted you?" he bit off. "Do you?"

Brin nearly flinched, but held her ground, chin defiantly at an angle as her brown eyes glittered with rage into his own. "Yes, I do. And if my father hadn't spoken so highly of you I never would've looked twice."

Lian laughed, a loud, musty, awful laugh that made Brin's bones clamor in her own body.

"My dear, dear girl." he paused, head lowering, walking silently towards her, eyes growing a deeper purple. "One must work hard to impress Wil Ohmsford, son of Shea Ohmsford, the holder of the Sword of Shannara."

He was toe to toe with her, and though he was nearly a foot taller, Brin met his cold stare with her own.

He smirked. "You're mother would be proud. You always had your father's cool temperament, your brother was the one to receive the fire your mother possessed. It's quite a pity she died before she could see you now."

"Yes, well, one learns many things when responsibility of a more, relevant source, occurs." she stood her ground.

"My dear girl, did you never know that I only want to marry you for your name? For your wishsong, for the power it entails me??"

She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Did it ever occur to you, sir, that perhaps that is why I did not take many suitors?"

"Touché."

"Indeed. Please leave." her voice was mesmerizing, even when stern.

"Brin, we had a deal. You promised to marry me. You gave me your oath."

"Two years ago, Lian. When you were different, before I knew things." she turned, glancing over her shoulder, "Before you betrayed me and got this heinous idea that our children would inherit my wishsong."

"You're a stubborn ass." he snorted. "Seriously though, I do love you."

"You love me as much as you love being an elf. You've stated yourself many times how much you hate your heritage. So why would you want anything to do with a Valewoman like me? What? So you can drain out your lineage? And replace it with the wishsong power?" she heaved an aggravated sigh. "Just leave. And please, do not return, sir."

Lian's features changed at that moment, face turning an angry red, eyes glowing purple. Electricity singed through the room, and both locked eyes, anger flaring in both.

"Do not test me. Remember, you are just a Valewoman." his voice was low, menacing.

Brin's face didn't flinch, didn't falter. "You only remind me constantly. Like I said, just leave, sir, and do not come back. I mean it. Everything you have ever said to me has been a lie. And I only truly see it now. Now leave."

Lian clenched his fists, voice mumbling incoherent words. Brin paused, breathing gently, hearing the old Elvin tongue spilling from his mouth. His words frightened her. She couldn't clearly understand what he was saying, but she knew it wasn't for the better.

She span around eyes widening as she watched his entire form glow a morbid black, hands clenched, body stone rigid.

Spells had been outlawed for a cause only few understood, but she was one of them. After the journey, on her return home, magic of the dark sort had been forbidden by Elves because many had lost their lives to it, being either unable to control it, or it being used against them. No one could truly stop one from using it, but if one was caught using it, they would be banned, cursed, locked away.

Brin felt herself shake, her body slowly contorting to what she knew was a dark spell that only she knew how to fight off.

Closing her eyes, she focused all her energy into herself, summoning up the wishsong. She had vowed to never use it unless it was truly needed, unless life or death was at stake, and even then barely intervening to let fate take it's course.

Fighting the powerful words that were flowing into her mind, closing off the wishsong, she pulled her mind farther into her private place, and the hum got louder.

Moments later the dark words were a mere annoyance from Lian, not as loud and clear as they once had been, more like a slight murmur, like someone whispering in your ear, and you barely hearing it, let alone understanding it. It was almost like a gentle breeze caressing your ear, or a lover telling you they love you in the softest tone imaginable.

The wishsong took her over, and she felt it burst from her body, encasing her in a warm aura, scaring away anything dark and unimaginably demonic.

Nothing could break her trance. Nothing could stop her. Nothing could make this song diminish. Not. One. Thing.

And then, darkness.

Lian watched in complete shock as Brin's body almost gracefully spilt to the floor.

He looked around, slightly stunned, his body still tense with the dark emotions coursing through him. Holy heck, he hadn't killed her, had he?

The dark words given to him by the Maelmord before it had disappeared because of the wishsong and Allanon were strong, but he didn't think they were that strong.

He cursed gently to himself. What was done was done, he supposed.

He walked to her, bending slightly to feel for a pulse. A gentle beat caressed his finger tips, and he almost sighed with relief. So the little witch wasn't dead, not yet at least.

Lian stood up, regaining his composure. Jair was off doing some sort of journey of his own, leaving his wife and kids behind, and Wil was asleep down the hall.

His fight with Brin had been so heated, he hadn't known what to do.

Using his newly found gift seemed right at the time, in fact, it seemed completely appropriate. He had vowed that if Brin wouldn't cooperate the calm way. Drastic measures had to be taken.

And they had, oh yes they had. Now everything could fall into place, just as they were supposed to, gently, and beautifully, and exactly as he had envisioned it.

He rolled her body over, looking at the pretty features she had.

You know, it was sad she was so pretty. Her mother had been a plain pretty, and how Brin came out one would never know. She had her flaws, but they made her beautiful. And the wishsong was the best part of all. All that power, encased in one tiny Valewoman, who knew nothing of the true powers of evil. She had evaded her destiny with the Ellcrys quite sneakily, blast that Allanon.

Perhaps it had been all in well and in good time for his own plans though. Perhaps it had happened just so he could bring about destruction again, except more powerful this time. He was already in with the father and Jair. It was a pity Brin had caught on. For someone so tiny, so insignificantly bound to this world, someone quite, in his eyes, stupid, she was quite smart. Damn girl.

He pulled her body up from the floor, tossing her carelessly onto the big comforter by the fireplace. Her bed was nothing more than a ramshackle little thing, she hadn't allowed the fame of being the saver of the Ellcrys get to her, she had remained humble, and the pitiful sack of a bed that she was now laying on proved it. If he had enough guts he would lay on her with it, but being as her father was, he knew he would never allow it to withstand.

He felt her pulse again. It had slowed. Little brat had gotten herself into something this time. Using the wishsong after so long, and not being careful about it. How foolish could one little wench be?

It could, after all, ultimately mean her very life.

Lian smiled at that. Perhaps things hadn't gone completely as planned. Maybe when the feisty little thing woke up she'd be more cooperative. Or maybe it would just cause her the very breath she breathed. The wishsong wasn't something to mess around with one's life.

He smirked. "Worthless for all but the wishsong."

Her life. That's all he had wanted after all.


	2. Rue Meridan

It was almost like an out of body experience. Tingly, warm, and mind boggling.

For a moment, everything, every last bit of her life over the past four years, came screeching through her mind, and she saw it, as an outsider. The long journey, the fights, dangers, the Ellcrys and what was originally supposed to be done, Allanon, Lian, her father, brother, everything.

Her very heart beat sounded foreign to her. Her very existence hanging onto nothing but her wishsong and how it affected her.

But that was just it. How _had_ it affected her? She glanced at her hands, her body, touched her face. Everything seemed… normal, consequentially normal. But something didn't feel right. She didn't feel… whole.

She lifted her face off the hard surface she was laying on, and coughed, body convulsing for a moment in pain.

She groaned, unsure of what to do. Had Lian left yet? The bastard had enough nerve to knock her off her feet with evil magic. Or maybe it had been the wishsong. Brin hadn't used it in a long while; maybe she had lost control of it.

She expected to feel the cool threads of her carpet on her bedroom floor, where she vaguely remembered thudding on before everything went cold, but when her fingers became aware of what she was touching, it certainly was not her thread bare floor.

Brin's mind was baffled. She took a moment to actually look at her surroundings, actually take in what was in front of her. She hadn't noticed it before, hadn't bothered, but now that she did, found herself to be aboard a …ship of some sort, and it was moving gently across… what… water? A ship?

She found strength to stand up, to balance herself just enough to get footing.

Her head was still spinning, and her heart was still throbbing in her eyes, blood rapidly spitting itself through her veins.

Clutching the edge of the ship she looked over, and to her utter astonishment found nothing but air.

Her head span again, and she found herself clutching the side of the rail harder, steadying her self so she wouldn't falter and tumble over like a rag doll.

Suddenly she felt nauseous.

An air ship? It seemed impossible. A damn air ship? Those fabled, unimaginable gravity defying…. _air ship_?

"Hey!" a strong voice called to her. "How in the bloody heck did you get on here!" heavy leaded footsteps walked briskly towards her, and a hand grabbed her arm. But it wasn't a male hand, it was a feminine hand. A milky white, clean cut hand. Brin looked up at the person who had grabbed her with such dominating force.

"I… uhh… I'm Brin."

"I don't care who you are. What the hell are you doing on _my_ ship?" the red haired woman said.

A few stares arose from the surrounding ship mates, a few gawking, a few curious, a few smirking.

Apparently, whoever this woman was, she had authority, and no male was about to speak up and challenge her.

"I uhhmm… I don't know?" Brin murmured.

The woman nearly gagged. "What do you mean you don't know you weirdo? You have to know how you ended up on my ship. You didn't just drop out of the freakin' air now did you?"

Brin wasn't sure anymore.

The woman took Brin's silence as agreement. "No, you didn't just as I thought."

Turning to her ship mates, the woman shouted a few orders, and every last one of those men scrambled as fast as their legs could take them to their duties.

"Why don't you follow me down into my den. You have some explaining to do." the woman looked Brin over, then shook her head. "Like where I drop you off."

She started moving towards below decks. "Oh yes, and I'm.. well, never mind that. Call me Little Red. Everyone else does." and with that she disappeared below deck.

Brin stood there a moment, astonished.

"Eh, don't let her get to you." a strong male voice stated.

Brin turned, staring up at an almost identical twin of the woman, except male, and a bit more rugged.

"Little Red's never had a thing for outsiders. Though I must admit I'd like to know how in land's sake you got on this ship as well. Oh yes, and it's _my_ ship. I just let her think it's hers. It makes her happy. The girl's been heartbroken since Bek left her."

"Who?" Brin whispered.

The man raised one bright red eyebrow. "You ain't from around here, are you?"

"No sir." Brin responded.

"Come on, let's go below decks. The name's Redden Alt Mer. That's my sister Rue Meridian. We all call her Little Red. She's a minie me, except less burly. Thank Gods. She's as tough as they come, hard as nails, but don't let her fool you too much, she's a softie at heart."

"Brin Ohmsford." Brin retorted quietly.

Alt Mer's footsteps stopped suddenly, nearly causing Brin to crash into him. "Ohmsford?" his brows knit together. "How can you not be from around here and have a name like Ohmsford?" his voiced lowered. "Best not tell Little that. She doesn't have a liking for Ohmsford's lately because of Bek."

"I don't know anyone named Bek.." Brin said, almost as confused as her mind felt airy. "Wait, what's my family got anything to do with anything here?"

But it was too late. Alt Mer was below decks. Brin could do nothing but follow.

They found Little sitting behind a carved wooden table, carving at the wood.

"She gets bored." Alt Mer whispered.

Rue shot him a look. "I don't believe this concerns you, brother." "Ahh, but it does little red. It does a bit."

Brin felt completely out of place. She almost wanted to scream, to beg someone to tell her what was going on, where she was, maybe even who she was. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. Not in the least sure at all.

Only then did she realize they had asked her something.

"I'm sorry. What?" she blustered.

Little Red sighed, annoyed. "I asked you, where did you come from?"

"I.." The truth couldn't hurt, could it? "I live in the Four Lands." was the reply.

"The Four Lands you say?" Rue repeated. "And how is it you came to be on my ship when I had thoroughly, and I mean thoroughly, inspected the entire ship myself before we set off?"

Brin cocked her head just slightly, remembering back to the encounter with Lian. "I'm not so sure anymore, Little Red."

Thoughts swam through her mind. How did she exactly end up here? And where exactly was she?

"Could I ask… where am I?"

Rue's eyebrows rose, and she played with a lose strand of red hair. "On an airship." she said simply.

"Now Little, there's no need to be rude. She's not a male, so you don't have to be so harsh. Be happy she isn't related to Bek."

"Gods help her if she is." was the mumbled reply.

Alt Mer glared at his sister. "You're just flying above the Blue Divide, a bit away from the Westland."

"Mord Wraiths… are there… Mord Wraiths." Brin ventured, her voice low.

Rue nearly tumbled from her seat. "What in damn hell are you talking about? Mord Wraiths? I should certainly hope not to run into one of those things now."

Alt Mer held his hand to Rue, silencing her. "Hush, sister."

"Child, if you do not know how you came on this ship, and you do not know where you are, or why you are here, what _can_ you tell us?"

"I… I don't know."

"That's been her response for everything." Rue tossed her hands up and took out her throwing knife, starting to sharpen it. "I already attempted asking, Alt Mer, and to no avail did I get any sort of coherent and, or, sane response."

"Rue, may I speak to our little stow away in private?"

Rue blustered, then silenced. "I suppose so. You're always better at getting things out of people than I am anyways." she strolled from the room, composure intact, at least until after the door slammed shut.

"My sister, she can be.." he cocked his head a bit to the left, smiling slightly, "She can be a handful to say in the kindest way."

"She seems… sweet." Brin said, not at all convincing.

Alt Mer burst into oblivious laughter. "Sweet?" he heaved in the laughter. "Sweet as the water from Shatterstone is about how sweet that girl is." he held his gut, the laughter still consuming him. "She has her moments, but you have to pay attention."

Brin gave a gentle smile. "I have a brother. He can be the same way." she said quietly.

Alt Mer cleared his throat, running a hand over his red ponytail. "So what _can_ you tell me, Brin Ohmsford?"

Could she? She didn't understand it herself, but it could make sense. Could she trust this man though?

"I see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours, young Brin. Out with it please."

Brin inhaled, words clogging in her throat. How in Gods' do you tell someone you didn't think you were from their era?

"It's… weird."

"I've heard my share of weird things, try me." Alt Mer crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I'm serious young one, try me."

So, she blurted it out. She figured she would either be not taken seriously, laughed at, or thrown overboard. She didn't like any of them. But what she didn't expect was Alt Mer to stare at her like she was a new found species of animal in the Rabb Plains.

When she had finished telling her story, from start to end, from four years back explaining the wishsong to that very day and where she stood, Redden Alt Mer didn't laugh, didn't mock, just sat there, hands folded neatly under his bearded chin, staring at her.

A few moments went by before anyone spoke.

"You know, Bek had a bit of the wishsong. Not as powerful as yours, but he had some. It saved us a few times, weak as it was."

Brin moved uncomfortably, feet padding against the wood. The aching in her head had dulled to a light throb, and her tremors had subsided, for the moment.

"I still don't know who this Bek is." she looked at Alt Mer, and to her surprise he had complete seriousness plastered onto his rugged features.

"He was on this ship a year or so back. Seems like forever ago to tell you the truth. We had to save his sister.. Defeat the Morgwar, find the Tanequil, make good prevalent in the land over evil for the first time in a long time. They fell in love.. Little and Bek. Didn't notice it until the end.. But Bek's wishsong interfered a bit. He couldn't control it as well as he thought he could. He used it a bit on our journey, but it had never developed to the ability that yours, Brin, seems to be. His song ended up consuming him, and he became obsessed. He was a strong lad he was, stood his ground for a long time, even eventually was the one to defeat the Morgwar. He's the one who found the Tanequil, the one who was determined to prove the Isle Witch wasn't as bad as everyone made her out to be. But the longing for a more powerful song consumed him, and he pulled away from everyone. Even Little."

"But what does he have to do with me?" Brin asked.

Alt Mer looked at her and with total sanity and calm voice said, "I do believe you are his great great grandmother."

"Excuse me?" Brin's eyes widened for a moment.

"Well, you say you have a powerful form of wishsong. It could very well be possible your wishsong could have taken you through time Brin."

"I don't think so, Alt Mer. It's too different, too… strange." she rubbed her temples. This was almost more than she could handle. But somewhere deep inside of herself, Brin knew it was the truth.

"Brin Ohmsford, after everything I have seen and experienced in my life so far, different and strange things seem nothing but normal." and with that he left.


	3. Confrontation of the Most Evil

"What do you mean she's in a trance?" Wil Ohmsford exclaimed, glaring angrily at Lian. "What did you do to her you imbecile!" he shouted. Wil had always trusted Lian Ruus, but for some reason this was not sitting well with him. His gut was telling him one thing, but the words that fell from Lian's mouth told him another.

Lian let out a hardy laugh. "I did nothing to her, Wil Ohmsford. Brin attempted to use the wishsong, and we both know that that is a danger all its own for someone as frail as her."

"My daughter is neither weak nor frail."

"Why? Because she saved the Ellcrys? Dear Wil, one can save something and still be entirely weak on the inside for such a powerful creation." Lian's voice was low, almost lethal.

Wil's eyebrows knit together. "I know my daughter, she is not weak."

Lian could tell by the look on the old man's face he wasn't about to give in that easily. If Lian had his way he would just dispose of Wil Ohmsford altogether. But one couldn't get rid of an Ohmsford without someone noticing. And their was Jair to think of as well. He would surely notice, it was his father, and what a mess that would be.

"My Brin knows how to handle her wishsong, Lian. She hasn't had a problem with it for the longest time. To my knowledge, she hasn't even used it since the Ellcrys."

"Then there is very little you know about your daughter, Wil."

Wil scoffed at that. His large frame towered against Lian. Though he was nearly 70, he wasn't a weakling, and he wished at that moment he could give Lian a piece of his mind. Something was not right with the elf, no matter what the blasted guy said. Wil was sure of it. His eyes, the flicker of a gentler, more solid anger gave him away. For a while now Wil had suspected that things weren't a perfect world between Brin and Lian. This just proved it. Lian's façade could not fool Wil. He had seen so much and done so much and heard so much and lived a lot longer than this elf.

A flicker of uncertainty shadowed in Lian's eyes. The bloody bastard was on to him. How, he wasn't sure. He knew the Ohmsfords were famous for their wit and quick thinking, they had grown in history and become one of the most prevalent forces to deal with in the Four Lands. People always went to them when they needed something fixed or dealt with. Even Allanon, a powerful Druid, couldn't save the Ellcrys on his own. Couldn't retrieve atonement in history without the Ohmsfords.

"My daughter has perfect control over her wishsong." Wil said, his eyes drilling daringly into Lian's. "She has had since she was but a child. I trust her to the fullest extent. She knew how to handle it before I barely knew about it."

Lian let out a huff and stormed from the room.

"I am not done you with you Lian Ruus!" Wil nearly screamed. "My daughter is in some sort of trance because of _you _not the wishsong. I know it. So don't you go and try to fool me you ignorant elf."

Lian span around, causing Wil to crash into him in his eager attempt to follow. Lian slightly pushed him back, gaze rigid with utter insanity. Body raged, and Lian's hands grasped hold of Wil's shoulders, tightening, not releasing, and his voice cried demons.

"You're daughter, dear sir, is in a trance because of the wishsong. What transpired before such is none of your business, as it does not concern you or anyone else. Now I suggest you leave me be. I have much to do concerning what has happened, such as finding a way to bring her from this trance."

Wil hesitated, mind racing. Something in Lian's eyes wasn't right, something was completely off balance, something almost… heinous lurked behind those green depths. His stance, the air around him, the way his presence felt in the hall, the way his mouth was pinched.. it was… dark. His grip was not kind, was not gentle, it was… determined, angry, murderous.

Lian's green eyes flickered a slight purple as Wil watched him look over his head and past him.

"Father?" a male voice cautiously said from behind Wil. "Is everything okay?"

Lian's grip loosened on Wil's shoulders, then fell back to his own side.

Wil turned slightly, forcing a slight and hopefully buyable smile. "Jair, welcome home. Your kids are eager to see you I'm sure. All is well here, Lian and I are just having a talk."

"Yes, Jair, a talk. Concerning your sister." Lian smoothly countered, folding his arms behind his back.

"Yes, so why don't you go say hello to your wife and kids and you can come back in a while and we can talk." Wil finished.

"But uhmm, I have something for you, father." his voice was cautious, his eyes locking momentarily with Lian, stern and curious.

"Later, my boy. Later."

Wil felt quite sick turning his son away, but this did not concern him, at least not at the moment. What was transpiring between him and Lian was between them alone, and he wouldn't risk getting Jair involved if it was not necessary.

At the sound of the front door clicking shut silently, Lian spoke.

"Stay out of what you know you should, Wil Ohmsford."

Wil's left eyebrow rose, tension forming in his voice. "Is that a threat, Lian?"

Lian smirked. "No, dear Wil. It is not a threat. Nor is it a promise. Just merely stating that what concerns me and Brin…" his brows narrowed, and there was a moment of silence so thick you it choked the air surrounding the two men "..what is between me and Brin… it does not concern you." Lian turned, and walked out the back door, the wood closing lightly against the door pane.

Wil stood there, stunned. He couldn't quite forget the look on Lian's face when he saw Jair. It was… hatred. Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Lian had always loved Jair as a brother, never even fought with him. Occasionally there would be a fall out for a day or so, but nothing that could not be resolved. And that glance… it was.. brutal.

His whole demeanor, his face, the way he acted, was not the Lian that Wil knew. It was almost as if the Dark Lord had taken form in his heart, planted a seed, and it was growing, and it was multiplying, and eventually it would overshadow what goodness was left of Lian.

Turning himself, figuring it best not to follow this time, Wil headed back into his daughter's room and closed the door quietly behind him. He could almost taste the anger, the evilness in this room.

"Oh Brin… what has happened?"

The words fell on silent, invisible ears.


	4. Nature's Temperment

_A/N: For this chapter I had to do a bit of research on ships. I re-read a bit of Isle Witch to get a feel again of what the air ships were like, and I also looked up ships online so I could add a bit to it, since it is a little bit of years past since Isle Witch. The ship's, surprisingly, aren't like normal pirate ships, but a bit more advanced, sleek, but with a bit of old tradition. Not like an air ship or whatever on Star Trek or some cheesy sci-fi film, but something more beautiful and gentle, with the horse power of something big and ugly. I also did research on ship talk, like the pirates had, but twisted that a little as well, while trying to keep the same meaning and traditions. I wanted to stay as true as I could to Terry Brook's invention of the airship, while still using his work for my own creations. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I worked hard on it. And I sincerely hope it shows.  
__P.S. I've included the meanings of some words at the end of the chapter in case some of you don't know what they mean. (:_

She was trying to stay calm. Honest, she was. Making sure no one as watching, Rue pulled her curly red hair from the low ponytail she always kept it in. The wind teased it, coaxing it upwards into the air and around her body.

Who was this mindless twit that had dropped seemingly out of nowhere and directly onto her airship?

Her boots clicked quietly against the wood of the deck as she paced, thinking, her hands twittering mindlessly together in a motion of annoyance.

"Dammed to hell." she muttered. Gazing out over the gray sky she let the chilled breeze soothe her frazzled nerves. She had already had a rough morning, dealing with the ship's crew and their reluctance to follow a female captain. They had sneered and cracked comments, and mockingly toasted her on her victory over the law of no female captains.

Women captains were generally not allowed, and they had made it blatantly clear that if it hadn't been for Alt Mer, Rue would not be sailing the airship on which her feet stood.

She hated men. All the them. Their idiocy, their cruelty and view of women as near inferior, they're egos; it all amounted up to a waste of space.

The only man she had ever known to be at least mostly decent was her brother. He had watched her and loved her since they were children. He had been like a guardian angel over her shoulder through the whole journey with Bek and Walker and saved her a few times.

It was a pity he couldn't save her from her thoughts.

The wind whistled noisily, detesting her thoughts in an obvious protest. She closed her eyes, wondering if Mother Nature had ever intended for the way the world of men worked. Perhaps she had made the wind to be male, strong, powerful, and annoying as well as oftentimes cold and stubborn, while the sun must be female; warm, at times blazing with a temper, but always reliant to make things better, an ugly day beautiful, flowers grow, children play, and even the most venomous of man content for a while.

A rain drop protruded her pondering by announcing itself on her nose. Then another, and another, and an utter pound of it came in torrential falls.

Rue just stood there. This was nothing new. It happened. She actually quite enjoyed it. But she missed the sun.

Gazing out over the bow of the ship she judged the condition of the sky. Traveling would still be safe, but if the wind took speed and dragged the rain every which way, they would have problems.

For a moment she forgot about her temper, the anger she felt after such a hard morning.

"Little Red!"

Alt Mer's voice broke her mostly serene state of mind and she turned, watching coolly as Alt Mer, his tall dominating frame strolled with easy effort across the rain slicked deck, not once losing step.

"What is it?" she asked when he as close enough to hear her over the gentle crying of the wind.

"Brin." was his reply.

Rue's face showed no expression. "Yes, what about her?"

"If we have to dock we'll let her off, but I am highly against it."

A fiery sleek red eyebrow rose on Rue's face. "Dare I ask why?"

Alt Mer met his sister's stubborn gaze. "I just know, alright."

Rue had always listened to her brother within reason. He knew she would do nearly always as she pleased, and though she oftentimes followed his opinion, it was rare that she ever truly listened in full to him.

The rain fell harder, big fat luminous drops from above, crashing its way around them, falling tepidly against their clothes, soaking them.

"She needs us." he continued, "There's more to her than meets the eye."

"Indeed." came the quiet, annoyed retort.

"I'm serious Little Red." his gaze had turned stern. "She's not something we can just toss aside. She needs us, and in time we may need her."

"Is this another one of your pity parties for a random stranger?" her voice rose a bit.

"No, Little Red. It is not. And you of all people know I am strongly against having random strangers on any ship of mine if they are not needed or serve no purpose."

"So then why her?" Rue's body went rigid. She didn't like fighting with her brother. Her old, cool demeanor was gone by now, and her level headedness with it.

"You just have to trust me on this one Little Red!"

"You mean like I trusted you with Bek and Walker and Star and Ahren and the Wing Riders and god knows who else. Half of those people are dead, and the other half have vanished while a select few survived and walked away!" she walked past him with that, heading towards her cabin to change.

Alt Mer turned, and braced himself as the ship gave a lurch, the winds now picking up speed, rain pouring down like thousands of horse hooves on the deck. Rue lost her footing for a moment and crashed into the side rail. This wouldn't be the first time a storm had nearly cost her her life.

Alt Mer moved quickly, grabbing at the back of his sister's shirt, yanking her into him. He pulled them both backwards, wrapping his hand around a manrope tightly as the ship gave another jolting lurch.

A shattering crack was heard from above, and the jackstay that had held so firmly came crashing down in a loud thudding sound, causing the entire aircraft to shake and tremble.

The ratline fell, with it one of the crew members, their body slamming mercilessly against the deck.

Rue watched in utter horror as another wind slammed the ship around and sent the young man careening over the side, still alive. She closed her eyes. She hated death. She'd seen enough of it on her journey with Bek, and she was sick of it.

"Rue, Rue, RUE!" Alt Mer was shaking her slightly, trying to gain her attention.

She glanced up at her brother's face, watching his strained expression. She saw his lips move, watched them intently, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. The wind was howling, the rain screaming, and the ship tipping.

"We have to get to the companionway! We need to get to the orlop for the best protection!" Alt Mer's voice rang out among the men hanging on for dear life and the voices that cried in agony, in anger, and in utter insanity of shouts and orders.

Rue gazed around, ignoring her brothers words.

"Rue! Damnit, Rue, are you even listening to me?!"

"I have to help!" she fought against her brother's arms, and broke free just as the ship span in a 180 degree angle. She crashed into the rail again, amidships, and grasped tightly. She looked around, cursing herself for letting her hair down. It was only getting in her way now.

Alt Mer watched in horror as his sister trailed along the rail, fighting against the wind and spinning of the ship. One wrong move and she could be thrown over like a rag doll. Someone of her size, though she was strong, was no match for the anger of the Great Divide's weather.

Rue kept pushing her way towards the small cabin where the helm was. A large downhaul was swinging to and fro, lashing against the angry storm. Rue took advantage of it's loosened state and grabbed at it, and clung, letting it pull her towards he tiny cabin without being on deck.

The rope and her weight careened her right against the small cabin, and she let go, half sprawled in a semi tousled state against the wall. Gripping the door handle she yanked it open, and nearly toppled away from the cabin. She clung, and with all her strength managed to get inside.

She lay on the floor for a moment, regaining composure and then looked up to the helm.

"Well no bloody wonder the ship's tipsy!" she screamed. "No one's steering this bloody damned thing!" and with that she threw herself at the wheel, grabbing wildly and desperately attempting to stop it's crazy spinning back and forth.

She grunted as her body tensed up, fighting against the shaking wheel.

The ship heaved, causing items to hurtle to the floor from their shelves, and bodies to scream as they held on for their very lives.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Alt Mer couldn't believe the guts of his sister. He knew she meant well, knew she was trying, but she wasn't strong enough to lull the staggering ship back into a serene state of composure as long as this storm was going on.

He loosened his grip on the manrope and looked around. The wind whipped everything about him, and it was difficult to see anything between the immense fog and weighty torrent of rain. He shouted, watching as Fabel, their most loyal crew mate, toppled precariously from another manrope sidled by the jackstaff. And then, he was gone.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Brin was still standing in the same cabin the conversation between her, Rue, and Alt Mer had taken place when the ship heaved, sending her smashing into the right side wall. A loud crack was heard from the larboard, and her head span as a major amount of items came flying from the walls and thundering down upon her.

She let out a muffled groan and pushed her way up. What in God's name had just happened?

She brushed herself off, rubbing her head, and opened the door. Rain came splashing in. Brin covered her face and peeked cautiously outside. The deck was slick, and bodies were flailing helplessly back and forth on the wood. It sounded as if the ship itself were coming undone. Where was Rue? And Alt Mer?

Holding on she walked carefully out and along the wall. She couldn't see anything. The fog was too thick, the rain to angry, and the wind to wild.

"I have to stop this." she whispered, hearing the screams of people.

Thoughts came flashing back into her mind. The screams she had heard as her protectors had died.. The pain Jair had suffered, the agony of the Ellcrys and Allanon. It was too much for her to bear.

"NO!" she screamed at the sky. "No! You must stop!" she howled against the rain. "People will die!"

But it was no use. The angry storm was punching their small ship apart. It was like a little boy who was angry at his parents, and playing too roughly with his toys, throwing them, breaking them, screaming at them.

Brin lowered her head and thought.

She couldn't… the wishsong… but it would save lives… but it was wrong… she had already gotten herself tossed somewhere in time once… but maybe it would bring her back… it would save lives, even if she _didn't_ go back.

She raised her head to the sky, letting the wind rip her hair behind her. She closed her eyes, and let go.

_Bow: Front of the ship  
__Manrope: rope used as a handrail on a ship  
__Jackstay: __iron or wooden bar running along yard of ship to which sails fastened  
__Ratline: small rope forming a rung of a rope ladder on a ship  
__Companionway: Stairs from upper deck of the ship to lower deck of the ship  
__Orlop: __lowest deck in a ship having four or more decks  
__Amidships: Half way between the bow and stern of a ship.  
__Helm: ship's steering wheel  
__Downhaul: rope for holding down or hauling down a sail or spar  
__Jackstaff: __short staff at ship's bow from which the jack is hoisted  
__Larboard: left side of the ship_


	5. A Dirty Past

_A/N: I don't like death. I don't deal well with it at all. This stems from my younger teen years. I want to make that clear right now. I even become pissed when a character dies in a book that I'm reading. I cry over it. So I try to avoid it in my writing. But sometimes death must be played out to understand how a character functions, why he or she is like they are, and even to tie in loose ends. This chapter was a bit hard to write, but I felt it necessary so a bit of Lian was exposed. I revised it not once, not twice, but three times, to get it just right. It's not perfect, and like I said it was difficult, but I'm hoping my reluctance to write it does not show, and that my love for writing and my willingness to do what I feel necessary whether I like it or not, evident._

Lian wished he hadn't come to this weird house, but he had to know what exactly had happened to Brin, and why. He was pretty sure it all dealt with the wishsong, but there was something else that didn't fit right.

He gazed at his surroundings, the small table and chairs, the dirt floor, the ugly drapes, the bare window. The only thing worth any sort was the small shelf by the front door which contained artifacts that looked as if they were gifts. A few gems, some books, and a beautifully arched sword, with slight markings of royalty on it.

"Who goes there?" a feeble voice gently cooed.

"Lian Ruus, young star gazer. I require your assistance."

"That you do?" a figure stepped from the shadows, cloaked in a purple tunic. Long black hair hung limply down her back, straight and greasy. Her eyes were a vapid milky white, result of years of being tortured by souls, visions, and darkness.

The woman paused, inhaling her surroundings. "Don't look at me so, Lian Ruus. My heart is cleaner than yours, I can feel it."

Lian smirked. She was a true seer, that much was for sure.

"I am Alanya Bertrand Arthus. I have no vision of the outside world, but I see into the other worlds so many people are frightened to step into." her gaze, though empty, stared hungrily at him. "I knew your stance and thoughts the minute you set foot in my home."

Lian remained silent. From her stance, she was cautious, almost rebellious to his presence. To the normal eye, one would not be able to tell a wood elf turned dark. It happened slowly, gently, caressing over the mind, working its way out.

Gentle padding of feet came towards him. She stopped, a foot in front of him, and inhaled his scent. For a flicker of a moment her eyes flashed, and then it was gone.

"You seek aid. Answers to questions only I can answer." the woman sat down at her small table and beckoned Lian to the other end. "I do not ask for money. Just that you take what I say to you in peace and depart from my home."

Lian sat, letting his gaze not once stray from the seer's face.

"Your hand, please." her own trembled, white and thin skinned.

Lian obliged, and found her hand cold, the pulse beating slowly, then rapidly as her eyes narrowed quite accurately on his own green ones despite her blindness. Her mouth trembled just slightly, but she did her best to hide it.

"You're a dark elf." she murmured, trying to pull her hand from his. "You're a dark elf! You're a servant to the Mord Wraiths you are! You… the Maelmord? But… he's dead."

"Only in physical aspects seer. Not in the hearts and thoughts of those who followed him." Lian responded, his grip tightening just slightly on her hand.

"Oh you're evil!" she cried, desperately attempting to rip her hands from his. "What do you want!" she propelled herself from her seat, knocking it over, and stared coldly at him. "Answer me or be gone!" she raved.

Lian's patience was growing thin and weary. "I won't harm you as long as you tell me what I need to know." he stood quietly, pushing the chair backwards. It made a hideous scraping sound as it moved against the weight of Lian and the bare floor.

"Ooooh, I knew you evil the minute you stepped in this house! You're thoughts were too strong, too dark, and your stance and aura screamed negativity! Get out!" she screeched.

"Not until you answer my questions." Lian's voice rose. He pounded his fist on the small wooden table. "You _will_ answer me. Or I will become the evil force you claim me to be."

The seer silenced, her body going from rigid to slightly limp in defeat. She knew what he could do, knew the power of the Maelmord's followers, of the dark magic users.

"That's a good girl. There's no need for me to use dark magic, now is there?"

"No." the seer politely responded.

Righting her chair, she sat, and reluctantly motioned for Lian to do so as well.

"I assume you want my hand?" he coldly said.

The seer shook her head. "I already know what you seek. What you desire to know."

She let out a trembling sigh, and lowered her voice. "The Valegirl, Brin Ohmsford. Her wishsong. Your fight. I know of it all."

Lian crossed his arms over his chest, becoming agitated at her cautiousness.

"She… her wishsong saved her. From your darkness. It brought her within herself, away from you and your darkness, the only safety net found. But is not a trance as one would think. The wishsong, it holds powers that a common person, human or elf, could never understand. Taming of wild things, saving of lives, calming of storms, it does many things which can be used for greater good. In times of danger, when the user is reluctant to use it, oftentimes when they are frightened, the wishsong salvages them, careening them through a time portal, giving their spirit power. Brin Ohmsford… she's not in a trance.. Just… asleep, her body salvaging itself while her spirit takes flight in a physical form to a safe place while her body recuperates."

"What does this mean for me?" Lian questioned, voice as low as hers.

The seer lifted her head and stared emptily at nothing unparticular, avoiding Lian's cold gaze. "Nothing."

Lian's mouth formed into a tight line. "She needs to come back. We have unfinished business. How do I get her back?"

"You can not." was the simple reply.

"You witch!" Lian stood angrily and grabbed the seer, dragging her up and over the table. He turned and slammed her into the wall, pinning her.

The woman did not flinch, only let her stare meet his own.

Lian watched her eyes for a moment, the whites were so clear, her pupils dilated and a filthy gray-white. The light blue surrounding the emptiness made him angry. She was holding back. He knew it. He just did.

"You are lying to me. I see it. You lie horribly woman."

"I speak to you the truth. I can only tell you what you need to know. Not what you want." she spat back.

"Do you know what I can do to you?" he whispered against her ear. "I can make your nightmares reality, trap you in them, in your own head, make you think and believe things that aren't real. I can make your flesh fall from your bones like they were the very rags on your skinny body."

"You can beat me, rape me, even _kill_ me, and I still can not tell you what you want to know. I tell you what you need to know. The rest you must find out for yourself." her hair hung loose around her, greasy, untamed, hideous.

"Ahh, but did you know I could help myself to your thoughts, seer?" he snickered. "But of course you did. You know so much of the dark magic, or so you claim."

The seer just lowered her head, and placed her palms against Lian's chest.

For a moment Lian shuddered, a jolt of electricity spinning through him. He tried to move, but his body remained stiff, unable to even blink.

"You can see into my mind, be my guest. I'll even let you in. Darkness does not scare me as it once did. I have seen too much of it, felt too much of it, lived in too much of it. So dark elf, have at it."

Lian felt himself sink through the ground, through the floors of the little cottage, the seer clenching him. His breathe shortened, his body quaked, and it felt as if a million rocks were crashing down on him. The pressure was nearly unbearable.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his fingertips dug into his palms, drawing blood.

His body crashed onto land, knocking the wind from him.

He lifted his head, and pulled himself upward into a standing position. Children ran across the field in which he stood, chasing a dog, their parents picnicking nearby.

An overwhelming anger slammed through Lian. It was him, and his sister, and his mother and father. Coldness swept through him, blatant rage, and he found himself moving towards them.

"_This is what _true_ darkness is, dark elf. You roam in what you do not know. You have the powers, but they do not yet have _you_." _

The coldness ate away at him. He couldn't stand it. It burned. It ached. He lunged at his father, pinning him. His mother looked in horror, and knelt over his father. But she didn't see him; she looked right through him, shaking his father and asking him what was wrong.

Lian felt the power. He loved it. He squeezed at his father's neck, hearing the veins screaming, feeling the muscles tensing, and all along no one understood why his father was convulsing, no one knew.

The children came running over, his sister crying in fright at the sight of her father in such a state. Not once loosening his grip on his father's throat, Lian watched his younger self, watched his expression. It wasn't really horror… it was.. fascination. Within moments his father's body went slack. His mother screamed in terror, tears tracing paths down her face as she shook her husband.

Lian stood, his heart pounding in excitement as he watched his younger self take a step back, watching in clear wonder.

Lian's eyes fell on his mother. She had always been such a weak woman. She was as weak as his father had been gluttonous. He hissed, his hand touching her shoulder lightly. He felt her pulse racing, her lungs begging for more air as she cried in heaving sobs over his father's freshly dead body.

His hiss grew louder, his thoughts more deadly as he felt his eyes burn with tears of pleasure. Yes, this is what he wanted, what he needed.

The dog the children had been chasing pounced, pinning his mother to the ground. He laughed as his younger sister screamed in frustration, trying to pull her dog from the mother, trying to save her.

The dog whipped his body around and grabbed the young girl by her neck, crunching. Lian trembled in glee as he heard bones shatter.

A shout rang from his mother as she fought to get to her daughter.

The dog let our a rabid snarl, and then, silence.

Lian watched his younger self stand there. The dog turned to him, staring right through him. It woofed gently and nuzzled it's bloody snout against the young Lian's belly.

A screech, only too familiar to Lian, sounded. The dog whipped it's head around and howled in response, running off.

He watched as a Mord Wraith came crawling from the shadows, cloaked in darkness, an aura of power enclosing him.

Younger Lian stared, shocked.

The demon beckoned him, coaxed, and as if transfixed, younger Lian followed.

The Mord Wraith knelt, and ran his gloved hand over the soft skin of the child's face.

Then in a clove of darkness, the child and the Wraith, were gone.

Lian felt his heart skip beats, felt his skin tingle, burn, and then disintegrate to the bone.

"_Why do you think Mord Wraiths cloak themselves?"_

Lian looked down at his hands, the skin wrinkling and curling until it broke off until both hands were empty for naught but his bones, black as night. He felt himself being pulled, his body being beaten against time itself. A cloak whipped around him, and he ached, his whole body ached. He fell to his knees, lost in his thoughts, the screams, the pain, the very evil of what he so longed for consuming him in a whirlwind of passion.

He let out a horrifying laugh, eyes wild. "The power! I have power!"

"_That's what they all crave in the beginning dark elf. Until it consumed them, at least. And they're only goal is to obtain the very power which in the end will destroy them."_

Trees turned crisp gray, singeing themselves black. The grass melted away, revealing red dirt and millions of disgusting creatures. The sky turned a dark blood red. Somewhere in the distance a Warg howled.

Lian inhaled the air, filling his lungs. He let out a howl himself, the setting turning him animalistic. He laughed, proud, and felt himself slash through the memory.

With one thrust he threw the seer from him. She hurtled into the feeble little table and chairs, and sprawled with the now broken wood onto the dirt floor.

He let out a low laugh, looking at his new surroundings. Dark, everything was dark, and beautiful. Dark, dreary, gray, black… it was all the most beautifully morbid thing he had ever witnessed.

"Ah, seer, you have done something well, indeed you have." he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding his newly drawn face and purple eyes. "You have shown me what I must do to bring young Brin back. Perhaps she won't marry me now that I am as I am, but that does not mean I can not imprison her and _make_ her have my offspring."

The seer raised her head, pushing aside a block of wood that had once been a part of a chair. "You can not bring her back."

Lian hissed, his voice rising brightly above everything else, a high pitched, enraged sound.

The seer covered her ears, letting out a muffled cry.

"Do not start to tell me what I can and can not do. Thanks to you, and your stupid visions, I am a Mord Wraith. Maelmord would be most pleased." he snickered at her slightly shaking body. "Such a pity really that a thing like you has to live. I apologize for what I am about to do, it's a more heroic and fast death thank you deserve."

"You'll never get what you need to get to her. She's never coming back. And you can not make her. You don't have the power to control what you need."

Lian removed the gentle sloping sword from the shelf he had seen when he first entered.

"You're not a true Mord Wraith. You look it, your darkness says it, but your actions… they aren't cold enough. Even _you_ know that. You're not a true Mord Wraith until you drink the blood of another, I'm sure the Maelmord told you."

Lian laughed. "I will be soon enough, witch. You yourself said I have everything else." he poked her jauntily with the sword, rolling her over onto her back. He pinched her belly with it, pushing down lightly.

The pain in her eyes gave her away.

"You know what I need. You said so yourself."

"You will never be able to control it." she breathed. "So there's no point in me telling you. I'd rather die knowing I didn't help you than knowing I did."

"A heroic death you want is it? There's nothing heroic about it you stupid woman." he knelt down, caressing her forehead. "Nothing. At. All." he pushed the sword inwards, like cutting meat through in one try.

Her eyes, once lifeless, filled with mesmerizing agony. It fascinated Lian, and he stared in wonder. He twisted the sword just slightly, watching the no longer vapid eyes fill with the emotion the seer had always longed for. Freedom.


	6. White Magic

_A/N: This chapter is shorter than I would have liked it to be, but I've been having a bit of a problem with writer's block. I have something I want to portray, but I have to work my way up to it, twisting and turning. I had different plans for this chapter, but somehow, It turned into this; a mix of insight into someone who is after all, just human, a glance at someone's softer side, and the hardness that bad memories can leave behind on a person, and the grudges It forms. Hope you enjoy it._

Brin felt the wishsong slowly catapulting itself through her veins and from her body as she seemed to float along deck.

For a moment the wind ceased to howl, and the ship abruptly stopped spinning at the crazy angles it had been.

The rain still pelted, furiously, as if begging Brin in an angry voice to stop her humming.

"No!! You mustn't use the white magic!! They'll find you!!"

Brin felt herself being pulled backwards and being slammed onto the wooden deck. Her eyes fluttered open to look upon a man weathered and old.

"Are you daft? Do you want the Mord Wraiths to find you, and us?!"

In a moment the wind howled in protest, sending the ship shuddering, but not spinning.

"I was only attempting to help." she whispered feebly, abashed.

"Well don't!" the man shouted. He glared down at her, almost repulsed. "Where did you come from anyways? You weren't on here when the ship set off. Rue doesn't like a stow away you know."

Brin stood, ignoring the man. She turned and walked off without responding. How humiliating.

--

Rue felt the ship stop spinning and the wheel regain it's steady composure. She sighed, relieved. "This'll be the life of me one day soon I guarantee it." she mumbled to no one unparticular.

"Little Red!" Alt Mer's body appeared in the doorway, heaving. "Bloody heck I thought I was going to lose you."

She flashed him a confident smile. "Now dear brother, after everything we have been thorough do you honestly think I would let a little old storm like this take me down?"

Alt Mer crossed his arms. "No, Little Red, I don't believe so." he winked at her, a semblance of normalcy returning slowly.

Rue gazed out over the now drizzling sky, a sense of calmness overtaking her. Her heart was still pounding, her nerves still shot to heck from everything that had happened, but she was okay.

"Any sign of Brin?" she asked.

Alt Mer shook his head quietly. "None. She must still be in the cabin. I should go check on her."

"You do that. In the mean time I'm going to stand here and handle this steering wheel on my own. I can handle it better than any man I know." she smiled shyly, "Besides you of course big brother."

"Remember that." he grinned, and set off to find Brin. Storms like the such that had just happened weren't abnormal for any crew that was aboard an airship. The Great Blue Divide had a fickle temper when it came to its weather, and it never stayed one way for long. Every crew suffered from such storms. As Alt Mer looked around he already was counting up the things they would need to fix certain objects and parts, and the sum was adding up quickly.

"You're a damn witch is what you are! Casting and weaving magic to change mother nature!"

Alt Mer turned to see Brin walking towards him, her face flushed with agitation mixed with fear, and their loud crew member Jaru following, pestering her.

"Jaru!" Alt Mer shouted. "Don't you have things you should be tending to at the moment? Something more important than bothering our guest?"

Jaru glanced awkwardly at Alt Mer. "She's a stow away Alt Mer. Little Red don't like no stow away."

"I'm quite aware of that, thank you, Jaru. Tend to your duties."

The man turned, looking Brin over one more time, and headed his way.

Alt Mer raised a thick red eyebrow, and crossed his arms. "Care to tell me what Jaru is speaking of?"

"I was only trying to help." Brin defended, her stance becoming rigid.

"Help how so? The wishsong?"

"Yes." she raised her chin defiantly. "I was doing the right thing."

Alt Mer shrugged a shoulder and gave a wry grin. "I didn't say you weren't. You could have very well been the one to save us." he patted her gently on the back. "The weather out here is unpredictable. We can use all the help we can get."

Brin felt herself ease a bit. "So you aren't mad?" she quizzed.

"Not in the least. Though we shouldn't tell Little Red." he stated quite sternly.

"What does she have against something that can be used for good? Or as that guy called it, white magic?"

Alt Mer sighed and rubbed the top of his red head. He gazed out at the afternoon sun, showing signs of reviving itself through the rain clouds, and thought for a moment. He himself wasn't so sure. Just because of the things that had transpired between her and Bek, there was still no honest reason for her to despise the power so. Bek's song had saved them two, three times. None of them would be here if it hadn't been for him.

He looked back down at Brin. She was so petite and was gifted with such an astonishing power. Her hair hung loose and lack around her. She was slightly pale and her eyes were a crystal blue that he knew only the Ohmsford family carried well.

"Brin Ohmsford, even I can not fathom why my Little sister can not bare the thought of someone using the wishsong. Especially since it has saved her arse, and mine, a many a time."

"Why did that man call it white magic?" she ventured.

"Because it is. At least, that's the name it was given. There's dark magic, which Mord Wraiths and demons use, and the white magic, well, not many have it. The Elves hold it in their being naturally, while any human who encounters it naturally through bloodline is almost unheard of. At least any whole human. White magic is powerful, and it's anything that brings comfort and saves. Dark magic, well, you can assess for yourself what it brings if you can play opposite white magic."

"Yes, I can." Brin murmured, remembering how things had befallen many brave warriors against the demons to save the Ellcrys.

"I wish I could settle myself in your head for just an hour Brin. You have this far away look, almost sad in a beautiful way, as if remembering something." Alt Mer said, his gaze locking onto hers. "Who have you left behind, young one? What souls have you seen fall? Who's blood have you seen spill?"

Brin flinched, tears clouding her vision for a moment. She pulled them back, hiding once more. She had been so strong, always, keeping everything locked away and hidden. It seemed now that she was away from it, from her family, from her memories, from the people who called her heroine, it all came out. Every feeling she had ever encountered on the journey that she had been forced to push down, to never show, to remain calm, because she had known what was to _really_ be done to save the Ellcrys before Allanon had stepped in.

Many had thought her dramatic, and selfish, until they saw what truly had to become of her before Allanon took charge. Her part had been slashed, destiny changing in the most corrupt way, cause and effect, change.

Allanon had allowed it, had found a way to twist her fate as well as his own, around it, around the dying Ellcrys, and into a new life.

"Do not glimpse into me just yet, Redden Alt Mer. You may not like what you see. At least give yourself the opportunity to know me first, before you see what I have done." she replied quietly, her eyes meeting his once more in a dance of power.

His footsteps echoed quietly against the wooden deck, the afternoon sun now playing at the tease of a sunset, glittering off his bright Rover clothing and coaxing the warm colors from his fiery red hair.

Brin watched for a moment, thoughts still spinning.

Her father had once told her that to experience life one must allow whatever is to happen in it, happen.

Instead of just accepting whatever happened as what was supposed to happen and that's that, maybe we're supposed to accept it and live it, instead of wondering what if.

Because as many people that knew her and saw her before the journey, they did not know the facade she had put on, the worries she had held, the unwillingness to go. The selfishness she had felt because after her meeting with the king of the river she knew what she would have to do.

She had a feeling that Jair knew to a certain point, but would not accept it until the time had come.

"Thoughts, Brin?"

She hadn't realized she had been staring, and flushed, embarrassed. "A few, Alt Mer. A few."

"Come, we dock in the morning. It is best to get some rest until then."

They walked silently back to the cabin where Rue was housed, silent.

--

"A witch? On my ship? Jaru you are insane!" Rue yelled at him, pushing him stubbornly out of her way. "You have a job to do, just as I do. Now get back to it and stop talking your gibberish."

"But that woman, the one with the dark hair and dark blue eyes, she's a witch. Blasted, I know it. She used… white magic, on _your _ship, Little Red. To stop the storm."

Rue turned slowly and glared at him. "Will you shut up and get back to what you are supposed to be doing?" there was a low tone of anger surfacing in that statement, and from the slight shudder Jaru tried to hide he felt it as well as she showed it.

"But Rue, it is true, I swear. I was on the deck, holding on for my very life, when out of nowhere she came hurtling from your cabin, and let go of the door, and the whole ship shook. A glow was around her, and she was so pale. It was white magic I'm telling you, white magic!" Jaru got so overworked he had to hold onto the wall of Rue's helm cabin.

"Now stop before you kill yourself you old--" Rue felt the color drain from her face. "Whaaa…??"

Jaru shook his head eagerly. "A white glow, Rue. Just like that Bek fellow."

"Do not... I repeat, do not mention his name in front of me, ever, ever, _ever_ again." her voice had turned low, and venomous, her eyes glittering a dangerous shade of brown, anger flashing silently in them, present but lurking.

Jaru felt the color drain from his face in nervousness. "Sorry, Rue. I won't, I promise."

"Are you, telling me, that this... I don't even know what to call her anymore.. Other than a _witch, _has use of the wishsong?" she paced closer to Jaru.

He refused to meet her enraged flickering gaze. He looked down, and stated, "I believe so, Rue. I believe so."

Rue let out a howl of anger and stormed from the cabin, nearly knocking Jaru over. "Steer this vessel, I had matters to attend to Jaru." she yelled.

Rue felt her blood slowly boiling. Her face was hot, her heart racing, her mind careening into a crash of thoughts and questions.

--

Alt Mer watched as his sister came into view. She was walking rather quickly, almost furiously. When she was close enough he noticed the expression on her face. He stopped, and Brin nearly walked into him.

"What is it?" she asked, following his gaze.

"She's angry." he murmured, his hand going instinctively to push Brin back a bit. "She knows."

"Knows? Knows what?" Brin questioned, her gaze not leaving Little Red. Rue's eyes locked on hers, and Brin knew instantly what Alt Mer was speaking about. Little Red was looking at her as if she were the devil himself.

A flash of glittering metal and then Brin felt the air being knocked out of her as Alt Mer's body covered hers in protection as they both crashed onto the deck.

"Christ, Rue!" Alt Mer's voice cursed.

"You knew! You knew, damn you! And you didn't bother to tell me!" Rue kicked her brother, rolling him over onto his back and off of Brin.

Brin gazed at what had come flying their way and felt her eyes darken. A knife was implanted deeply in the deck. She felt herself crawl messily away from the area where Alt Mer and Rue lay. She leaned against the side rail, heart pounding.

Alt Mer lay there, gazing up at his enraged sister.

"Why didn't you tell me!" she screamed. Tears clouded her brown eyes. "You bastard!" she slapped him, anger fueling her.

"And you!" her head jerked towards Brin.

Their gazes met, and Brin toughened hers.

Rue stood from Alt Mer, who sat now In shock at his sister's outrage, one of the worst one's he had ever seen.

Rue' footsteps landed heavily as she came towards Brin.

Pulling herself up Brin waited for the worst.

"You're an Ohmsford."


	7. King Of The Silver River

Jair's thoughts were in a tumble. A bull raging, uncanny, unfitted, unflattering, gigantic tumble. Yes, that big of a tumble. And he felt it; felt it in every bone of his body.

His father and Lian were at some form of odds, and he had no idea what it could be. The two had always somehow managed to get along. If not because they enjoyed the other's company then sincerely for Brin, who claimed to love him.

Jair wasn't too fond of him to speak the truth. Lian had a way about him that unsettled his stomach. He was a cocky arrogant fool, and obviously Jair had always felt Lian was hiding something. He hadn't the slightest clue what, but Lian's demeanor constantly gave him away.

It was all so unsettling. So nerve racking.

Something was up and in the air, and it wasn't about to end pretty whatever it was.

Setting out for his daily night walk, he let his retriever walk steadily by his side this time. He usually never took Cookie out with him, but the big dog offered a sense of comfort tonight that Jair was craving.

He leaned on his walking stick for a moment, watching his surroundings.

The sun was mellowing itself out over the horizon, gently caressing the Earth in a gentle goodbye, warming the world to welcome night and the moon. The birds softened their chatter, and only a few twigs and branches moved in the forest Jair was now traveling through. Animals and beings were gathering their steel for the night, for rest, for protection, and asking God to give them one more night of peace so they could great the next busy day.

Cookie pattered ahead of him, eager, his tongue lolling, tail swishing from side to side. He sniffed everything in sight, and his big brown, shiny eyes took in everything there was to see. He moved like a little sprite from place to place, exploring, inhaling, gathering nature's exclusively unique scent.

Jair had to admit, it was peacefully beautiful. He walked for another mile or so and rested himself against a giant old oak, watching the Silver River intently. He had made his home close to the river for the very purpose of feeling close to its power once again. He had felt it on his journey with Brin, and he couldn't have himself part from it. His wife had understood, and they had built a home and raised a rowdy family close by.

The river offered a form of comfort, as it should. The King of The Silver River was the most miraculous and benign being there was in these parts, and he graced only a few, blessing them, and forever building a small tomb of peace in those he encounter's hearts for whenever their journeys and travels became rough.

He had, after all, granted such to him and Brin on their journey.

Cookie was bluntly licking the wood on the tree, attempting to gather what remains of honey the bees dropped and the nest oozed from above their heads, tail still going a million miles an hour.

Jair let his thoughts wander once again. The journey he had taken had been against his wife's wishes, she claimed he had been insane to do such a long journey that may or may not have results. He had felt the need to though, and he had gotten results.

Past the Blue Divide there laid a city. A city of mostly dark creatures, who shunned the light. It had been his destination. He had promised himself he wouldn't use the wishsong, but he felt that in order to find out what he knew was possible but still doubted, he had to have journeyed.

Arriving was the easy part. Getting the harmless darklings to trust him was another. Not many darklings were harmless these days. Most were cruel, unusually demented things with raw skin with splotches of hair and scales and eyes like daggers that could spot you from a mile away.

He had been careful. If he had been caught he would've been killed. Gathering their trust had taken a week, and in the end he had been granted access and permission to visit with their seer.

The woman was of human form, nearly forced to stay there. She claimed not to mind, saying it was a home and she was safe; the darklings thought her a goddess.

And that's when Jair found out the truth. The wishsong was capable of time traveling the user. He had felt it once while he was on his journey with Brin, and accident really. He had ignored it as his imagination, and she hadn't even noticed his disappearance with her being asleep and him on watch.

It was a quick journey, but he felt it, and it had amazed him. There had been cars, and people, and giant buildings with pictures on them with signs that said town names like "Las Vegas". He still hadn't the slightest clue where he had gone or why.

The seer had told him that time travel was not uncommon with the wishsong, and it could take you forward or backward. She said it had taken him backward, before Armageddon and the nuclear wars had struck the Earth, where they now roamed, before the First King of Shannara and when the Elves were still in hiding and nurturing the Ellcrys. She said that when the wishsong traveled you, it left your body in the present where you were, and jolted your spirit back and forth, giving you a physical form, but only for a certain amount of time.

When Jair had asked how long that time lasted, the seer had just shook her head, claiming that she only knew that the wish song kept you where you were at certain time stances for two reasons; to protect you from danger in the present, and, or because you were needed where you had traveled to.

Jair had been astounded, dumbfound, and almost aghast at once.

He had an uncanny feeling that the fight Lian and his father had concerning Brin must have had something to do with the wishsong.

The sun was gone now, replaced by the shining moon. It's glisten softened the hard crevices of the surrounding forest, and it made the Silver River more brilliant. The night was quiet.

Jair eyebrows narrowed. Yes, it was quiet, but it shouldn't be _this _quiet. His body tensed for a moment, aware.

It was too silent. Even the river was still.

Cookie seemed to feel it and stopped his shenanigans, tail straight, ears perked, chin up. His body muffled a silent growl, and it resounded off the surrounding trees. His paws dug into the dirt, nails extracting.

Jair kept his stance silent and still, watching Cookie from the corner of his eye. Cookie had his teeth bared, muzzle twitching, eyes bright with some sort of fury.

Soundlessly, a creature stepped onto the other side of the river. Jair noticed it at once, and so did Cookie. The dog went sailing into the Silver River, thrashing just on the edge of the shore, blocking the not invited intruder from passage, his mouth snarling with ferocious barks and white glittering teeth.

The creature raised his hand.

Cookie stopped, staring, still growling in a low tone. The fur on his back rose, and Jair knew instantly why.

A Mord Wraith.

It had been a long time since Jair had encountered one. The last time it had nearly been the end of him and Brin.

The Wraith stood where it was and just pointed directly at Cookie. Jair knew it couldn't do anything from that distance. Not unless it was a Mord Wraith of Maelmord, a direct descendant. Most were just followers, demon creators and havoc causing nuisances of danger. But ever so often there was one or two Wraith's that came directly from the Maelmord, serving it like one might serve a god.

Jair reached over and gently let his fingers wrap around his walking staff. It had been his father's when he had journeyed, and he cherished it. If Cookie couldn't protect him, this would.

The Wraith lowered it's hand, and Jair watched as Cookie sat and remained motionless.

"Cookie?" he whispered, unsure of even his own voice.

The dog didn't respond. Jair dared not move. He wanted to call up the wishsong, to bring this demon to it's end, but he wasn't sure of it's power just yet, and he didn't want to test it until he knew at least what the things intentions were.

The river seemed to glitter for a moment, and Jair caught his breath. The river only ever glittered at moments when the king was around.

The Wraith seemed to sense it as well, his stance cowering a bit, but never losing power.

"Jair Ohmsford!" the guttural voice boomed.

He raised his chin. "Demon." was his only response.

"You have journeyed much. I can read your thoughts. I can see what you have done, what you have felt."

Jair could almost feel the intrusion.

The cloak surrounding the demon shadowed it's features. Jair couldn't tell what sort of Wraith it was.

The demon stepped cautiously into the river, parting it as it went, turning the water a dark red with every step it took. The cloak billowed around the creature, oozing a tangible darkness that seemed to reach out with tentacles and claws to wrap itself around Jair.

With each step, the demon was closer. With each step, Jair felt his will draining. He couldn't move, he could hardly think. And he didn't know why.

Cookie just laid down from his sitting position and whined, almost as if he felt the same way.

Jair couldn't take his eyes from the Wraith. He just…. he couldn't. He was astounded, intrigued, and he had never been this way.

The water rippled red as the Wraith took slight, slow steps towards Jair and Cookie. The silver water that was untouched gleamed brighter, flickering the moonlight off the water, almost moving in a nervous, jittery fashion.

It began to move more rapidly, angrily, trying to throw the Mord Wraith from it's presence.

Jair's mind suddenly broke free, and he felt himself being pushed backwards by an invisible hand into the giant oak he had been leaning against moments before.

The water swirled up in a violent cascade of exploding blue and silver, the Mord Wraith halting just behind it's path. The creature turned, never once flinching.

The water roared with allowed fury, the funnel of glitter growing higher and higher until finally it shot out at different points, leaving nothing but the king of the silver river where it had been and the Mord Wraith gone.

--

Jair felt his heart pounding, felt the sweat cultivating on his back. He hardly understood what the Mord Wraith had been there for, but he certainly knew what had happened.

The king of the silver river stood before him atop the now calm water.

"Jair Ohmsford. It is nice to behold you again." the soft voice of the old man with a snow white beard as long as Jair was tall spoke.

Jair fell to his knees, gasping for air. "What… I don't understand… I couldn't move…"

The king of the silver river moved steadily towards Jair, his spirit flawless as it did so. He stopped a few feet from the bank where Jair was kneeling.

"It was powerful. One sent directly from the Maelmord. It is not dead. I merely banished it back to it's domain. It's hatred and strength are immense, and it wants you. And your family. And it won't stop until it has you. I am not sure why, young Ohsmford, but it does. You must take care of yourself and yours. Heed my words."

And with that, the king of the silver river turned and seemingly floated across the river, and into nothing.

Gaining his composure, Jair stood and reached for his walking staff.

He looked down at Cookie and gave a slight nod, knowing instinctively what his old friend was thinking.

He took off towards his father's house, dreading the worst.


	8. Woman To Woman

_A/N: I haven't been writing lately, which is why this one is so late. It probably isn't up to the best of standards, but it's something I've had in my head since I've been itching to write. It Isn't perfect, and its an idea that was thrown together in hopes that it would work out. I'm not sure if it did, because I'm a bit rusty, but that's what readers are for, now aren't they? Hope you like it._

The world stopped. Time itself stopped. It was as if Brin and Rue had been locked away from everyone and thing, and now they were standing face to face with nothing to stop the emotions screaming between them. The ship was silent; curious onlookers now made it blatantly obvious they were staring.

Rue let out an enraged howl of anger and shoved Brin into the nearby cabin door.

Brin felt herself tumbling, falling through hard wood.

Rue stormed in after her, slammed the door and threw the dead bolt without a second thought.

"I _hate _Ohmsfords." Rue whispered, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Rue, please." Brin countered just as quietly. "I was just trying to help." Brin stood up. She wasn't normally one to be weak, or be caught off guard, but Rue was like a ticking time bomb without a clock.

"Helping would have been keeping your curse silent and not having a crew mate proclaiming to me in horror that you're a witch with white magic." Rue spat.

"I am not a witch." Brin seethed.

Rue's eyes flickered dangerously. "One who deals in magic is either a witch or a warlock. That is the code." she took a step closer, nose to nose, "Whether it is in the past or not, it makes no difference, you are what you are. Do not think you can walk onto my ship and command it with magic. You're lucky I didn't toss you overboard when I first saw you like I would anyone else." she hissed.

Brin watched the emotions soar through Rue's face. Was her hatred for the Ohmsford lineage that awful, that powerful that it consumed her?

"I did not come here to cause trouble. Plainly, I'm still not quite sure how I got here."

Rue let out a laugh. "That story again aye? Personally I believe you know how in the hell you got here. You just refuse to state how."

There was commotion outside the door, then a loud knock followed by Alt Mer's voice. "Rue Meridan, open this door. You are not killing anyone as long as your on my time!" he shouted.

Normally Alt Mer had command over Rue, but only to a certain point. This was one of those times when it hit that certain point where all command ceased to exist.

"Rue, I'm not joking!"

Both women heard a fist collide with the door, jittering it on it's old hinges. It held firm, causing a laugh to erupt from Rue's throat.

"Go find some other way to occupy your time, brother." Rue said calmly.

"I am not leaving this door. God only knows what you'll do to Brin with your temper." Alt Mer's voice had turned to a low and dangerous growl. Anyone who knew him knew that tone meant to back off, to be wary, but Rue was oblivious, having tempted her brother's temper many a time.

Brin seated herself on the small cot, her eyes calm, her demeanor not at all unsettled.

Rue seethed at her calmness. Most people would cower in her presence when her temper flared through. This witch merely sat with her hands folded in her lap.

"This is ridiculous Rue." Brin ventured. She met the angry red head's gaze, silent anger coursing slowly but surely beneath her cool exterior.

"Ridiculous?" Rue planted her hands on her hips and strolled from one end of the cabin to the other to keep herself from wringing this insolent freak's neck.

"I will tell you what's ridiculous! Ridiculous is thinking you know what is going on when in all actuality you have no control over anything whatsoever! That's ridiculous."

Brin watched Rue, watched her pace, watched her think, watched her seethe. Her green eyes flashed constantly, flickering as thoughts passed through her head. She stood, not sure whether she feared Rue's anger, or was actually appeased by it. She'd been waiting quietly for some form of reaction from Rue, anything. Her attitude had remained aloof and if anything rude, merely contained and reigned in by her big brother. It pleased Brin to see Rue in a fit. It showed she wasn't made of stone. And ironically it settled her own anger.

Rue stopped in her tracks, glaring at Brin. "The Ohmsford family has done me favors in the past, and I refuse to allow any more of them to help me in any way. I don't care how it is."

For a moment everything was silent. Tension slithered into every corner of the cabin, soaking the walls and caressing both women down like a lover. Their eyes met for a moment, and Rue started towards Brin. She grabbed her hair and pulled her down angrily.

Tilting Brin's head just slightly so she knew she had control, Rue proceeded, "Shame on you Brin Ohmsford."

Power careened mechanically through Rue's veins. "Hiding such a secret from a Rover, especially one as dangerous as myself who trust few, well, it's like calling to death for a glass of ale."

"There is nothing wrong with the Ohmsford name." was the response.

The room seemed to collaborate into one giant mess behind Brin's eyes. Her heart was racing. Was she about to die? She could feel the animosity in the words Rue spoke. They hit her like rain on a window, wracked at her from the inside straight out .

A smile curved onto Rue's face. "Sure, I thought there was nothing wrong just like you. And then I met him. Bek Ohmsford. He played the game well you know. Quite like you did to my brother. He's quite charmed with you, you know. Why I can't fathom."

Brin felt the grip loosen on her hair. She tilted her head just slightly, face to face with Rue. Her heart sped. She felt herself being let go and slowly backed up. The wall met her back, hot body contacting cold wood. For a minute she jumped, the difference in textures alarming her. Every nerve was on end, her senses heightened, her mind ironically clear. She stared at Rue, unsure of things.

"I'm not going to kill you." Rue whispered, inches from her face. "Killing you is too nice. Not to mention I know my brother wouldn't be too happy with a red stain on his freshly polished floors."

Rue's eyes scanned Brin. She knew the girl was scared. Her eyes didn't reflect it, but her chest was heaving and there was a pulse flittering angrily in her throat. She smiled. "I have power you know. Not like yours, not at all, but I can manipulate people." she let a hand gently slide down the side of Brin's face, to her neck. Yes, the pulse was catapulting into zones that let Rue know she was in control.

Brin was pinned, and Rue's touch was both lightning and ice. It shocked her into warmth and tossed her into a deep cold ocean all at once. Static oozed between them. Rue wouldn't kill her, not with her own hands, she'd let someone else do it. That didn't mean she wouldn't have her fun in the mean time.

The ship creaked a moment, whispering, as if tantalizingly coaxing Rue onward. The red head steadied her footing and braced her hands on either side of Brin's head. She felt a whoosh of breath escape from Brin, relief blatantly washing over the girl.

"You unnerve me." was all she managed.

A smirk rose at the corner of Rue's mouth. "I unnerve you?" a low laugh rumbled from her throat, beautiful in context, sending shivers over Brin's entire being.

Their eyes met. "No, Brin Ohmsford, it is you who unnerves me."

Rue's voice was so close to her ear, her breath tickled across the skin. Brin let out a small gasp and dared not to move. She wasn't frightened of Rue, no, she was past that. She was more frightened at what would happened dare she move. Rue was so close, so close, and it was so wrong because of the anger, the hatred, the look of absolute repulsion in her eyes, and yet behind that, Brin could see doubts and confusion flickering behind those fury darkened eyes and that's when she knew that Rue felt it too.

"Rue… please." Brin mustered, still unsure of her own voice. Her gaze locked for a moment on the woman's lips.

"Please what?" Rue whispered, her body mere inches from Brin's. Her hands slid down the wall onto Brin's arms, holding her in place. "What, Brin Ohmsford?"

Brin felt Rue's gaze on her and met her challenging eyes. She was at a loss for words, and she knew it showed. She was cornered but not cowering, and with a defiant cock of her head and flash of blue eyes she countered everything Rue had thrown at her.

"Damn you." It was a low growl, a low cry, a low prayer for sanctuary. But it went unheard.


End file.
